


If I could have it back.

by Werepirechick



Series: B-team is the Best Team [7]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (IDW Comics), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apocalypse, Brother Feels, Brother-Sister Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, End of the World, Family Feels, Gen, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Loss, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Zombie Apocalypse, Reunions, Seperation, Survivor Guilt, The World ended, Zombie Apocalypse, scavenging, that's for ratdad, the major character death tag is not for the boys or their friends, they're not really okay, things get better I promise, this honestly didn't turn out as bad as it could have for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werepirechick/pseuds/Werepirechick
Summary: They lose their father, their world, and even after all that, they lose what parts of their family they'd kept alive.Donnie wanders with Mikey in the wreckage of the world, looking for their brothers, their friends, and their cousin. Trying to keep each other alive and whole, and not lose themselves to despair.It only works so well, and Donnie sometimes wonders if there's any hope to things at all.





	If I could have it back.

**Author's Note:**

> eyyyyyyy so this little fic is a gift to chibi-geek-girl on tumblr for the sickass fanart she did for my other fic, "So, I guess... we all have issues."
> 
> i finished pretty much all of this in one night, even though i'd planned to sleep after maybe three pages or something. shows how much control i have once i really get going lmao.
> 
> enjoy my take on yet another zombie apoc AU, i do love them so. don't worry about how dark the summary sounds, things end happy.

For once, the sun was shining. Bright and clear, warm in a way that few things were anymore. The sensation was something that Donnie had nearly forgotten; what with the ash clouds covering the sky so often these days.

He sighed, and turned the page of the stained map book in his hands. It was mostly up to date, but that only went so far in worth. Collapsed buildings and ruined streets had changed much of the cityscape the last few years. He had to rely mostly on his internal compass and sight to find their way around.

Mikey shuffled around quietly, a few steps away. Picking his way through an abandoned car overturned on the road. There was blood on the front fender, and more splashed over the front seats. Mikey seemed to be ignoring it, completely focused on finding any canned food or water from the unfortunate survivor’s death site.

There were a lot of cars like that around, and since zombies were never interested in taking any human food… well, that left easy pickings for Donnie and his brothers.

Kitty, Mikey’s three legged cat, lounged comfortably on the hot metal of the car; occasionally sticking her paw down the bat at Mikey’s thick, dark curls. Donnie almost envied Kitty sometimes, for her laid back attitude towards the end of the world.

But she was a former street cat, so Donnie supposed the lack of humans was a plus for her.

Donnie thumbed through his city map, mentally circling their next target. “If we head west, we should hit a strip mall,” Donnie said in a quiet voice. Couldn’t risk attracting attention these days, even with just conversations. “If we’re lucky, there won’t be anyone else there and we can get some new shoes.”

“I like that plan,” Mikey agreed, voice a tad muffled from being mostly inside the car. He heaved himself out of the passenger doorway, and draped his arms over the edge. Kitty stretched her neck out and rubbed her cheek on his, and Mikey kissed her head as she did. “Think they’ll have any Adidas’s? I want some orange ones.”

“…of course you want the most eye-catching color,” Donnie lamented Mikey’s choices in favorite colors, but he wouldn’t stop his brother from finding a spot of good in their lives. Donnie sighed, and added orange shoes to their scavenging list. “Please try to at least pick a dark orange. We don’t want extra attention.”

“I know, I know,” Mikey said, rolling his eyes. He disappeared back into the car again, and then popped up with an item in his hand. “Anyway, lookit what I found!” He waved the sealed packet, grinning widely. “Microwave popcorn! How long, Donnie, has it been since you had the sweet, sweet taste of fake butter on your tongue?”

Donnie raised an amused eyebrow. “You tell me.”

“Too long! Too long is how long,” Mikey tossed Donnie the packet of kernels, and set to hauling himself back out of the car. He nimbly clambered up and out, and dropped onto the cracking cement without sound. Kitty jumped after him, landing on Mikey’s backpack and worming her way into her assigned carry-on spot in the top of it.

Donnie watched his brother’s cat for a moment, seeing if she sensed any creatures nearby, but Kitty seemed content and happy. That meant they could move forwards without much worry.

Donnie tucked his city map into the side of his jacket, adjusted his grip on his bo staff, and gestured for Mikey to start following him. Mikey flashed him a grin, the expression crinkling the clawed scars across his cheek, and did so. One of his nunchucks already hanging casually in his left hand, and the other within easy reach on his hip.

The sun kept shining on them as they went, hot and welcome after days of overcast. It very nearly put Donnie in a good mood.

Though, the missing members of their small group kept that from happening, and continued to feed the steady thrum of loneliness and grief in the back of his mind.

Mikey was smiling, humming even, but Donnie could still see the brittleness in his brother’s efforts to be upbeat. It hadn’t gone away since they got separated from their family.

The strip mall they were aiming for was a few miles away. They had a fair amount of ground to cover before nightfall.

Donnie pushed his melancholic thoughts to the side, and focused on the idea of finally getting shoes that didn’t rub his ankles raw.

 

 

 

Personally speaking, Donnie thought the zombie-like virus had been overkill. On top of the earthquakes happening all over the world, people had started getting sick and not getting better. And then the infected individuals had begun spreading the illness faster and faster, and it’d all been downhill from there.

But seriously. Massive continent rending earthquakes or zombification viruses. Couldn’t fate have picked just one or the other?

Before the internet and powerlines were completely downed, Donnie had tried to figure out the truth of the plague. How it was transmitted, its source, if there was a cure…

He found out how it was transmitted by watching someone die right in front of him and his brothers- some nameless man they didn’t know, throat torn open and red spewing everywhere- and then get right back up afterwards. Mindlessly attacking, blackening skin because of dead blood running through his veins, and very obviously  _hungry._ Donnie had written down  _‘transferred through fluid to fluid exposure’_  after another individual in their meager survivor group had gotten black blood into a cut, and been turned that way.

He’d been unable to find the source before everything fell apart. He probably wouldn’t ever know what had released the virus, or why the continental plates had decided to lose their shit. And as for the cure…

He doubted there was one. It’d been months since any government had made a peep, and they’d long since stopped seeing airplanes in the sky. The only cure for anything these days was death, and in bleaker moments Donnie would wonder how soon until he received that cure.

Not yet he hadn’t, and he prayed it wouldn’t be too soon. He had Mikey to watch out for- Mikey was strong, but that strength could only hold for so long if he were left alone- and they still had to find their family.

After the first wave- the first hellish weeks of earthquakes and rising not-dead- all they’d had were each other. Their father had been bitten protecting them all, and had forced Donnie and his siblings to chain Yoshi up in their garage. As far as Donnie knew, their father was still there. Quiet and blank without something to hunt. Unless a passing survivor had put him out of his misery, like none of them had been able to…

Donnie preferred not to think of that. It still hurt deeply, even now that a few years had passed since the world ended.

From there, he and his brothers had banded together with their friends and cousin. April and Casey had lost their families in the first wave, too, and it’d changed the both of them deeply. Donnie knew anger a lot easier from the both of them, the months that the seven of them learned to survive. That shift of survival instincts had affected them all; a necessary change that had kept them alive this whole while.

Karai’s father had died, too. Or so she said. She never gave clear answers of just what had happened to uncle Saki, and Donnie had finally gotten the sense to stop asking about their estranged family member. Saki had been a standoffish individual for as long as Donnie knew him, and a harshly strict one when he wasn’t indifferent. Donnie didn’t miss him much, and Karai didn’t seem to either.

Some people were just better left forgotten.

They’d joined another group of survivors, ones that were joining other groups to form a large compound. Surrounded by walls and high fences hastily put in place, a small community started itself up just outside a major city and had doggedly survived the worst of the catastrophes.

Donnie had stayed there with his family, crowded into one shack with all of them and barely able to move around the sleeping places of each person. It’d been suffocatingly crowded sometimes. But, they’d been together, and had shelter, and weren’t dying or dead. It’d been hard, pulling weight and scavenging for the compound, but they’d made it. They’d survived.

And then a cult had destroyed one of the main fences, using explosives Donnie didn’t know the origin of. The walls had gone down, and the zombies had followed the sound.

That was two months ago, and the last time since that Donnie had seen any member of his family except for Mikey.

 

 

 

The mall’s doors were broken beyond recognition, and Donnie and Mikey picked their way inwards with caution. Stepping over shattered glass and windblown debree left there from years of exposure, and not making a sound. Always a chance that infected were wandering around the spot of their not-death.

Basically all the shops were ransacked. Glass walls shattered, metal cage doors pried open, etc. It wasn’t an appealing sight visually; but for a stealthy scavenging it was.

They only met one lone infected. Some poor custodian circling the area he’d likely been turned in. Donnie had opted to have them sneak by; using their blood streaked outer clothes to disguise their living scents. The custodian didn’t even look at them for more than a brief moment; Donnie and Mikey’s slow movements and dead smell masking them perfectly.

Usually, if they could do so, leaving the infected alive was preferable to killing them. Even if the men and women Donnie encountered were no longer conscious- hopefully, at least- or alive, it still put unpleasant images behind his eyelids at night. He didn’t know what Mikey thought of the matter. His brother had never really talked about how killing former humans affected him. Donnie was sometimes scared to ask.

The shoe store they were aiming for still had stock. Grocery stores, liquor depots, and major malls were usually the targets for looting, so it wasn’t too surprising most of the merchandise was still in the strip mall store.

Donnie was somehow, despite their often shitty luck, unsurprised when Mikey came bounding out of the back storage clutching the most eye searing pair of shoes that’d ever existed. Bright neon orange, with similarly neon green stripes.

Apparently, while the world had been in the process of ending, someone had put a colorblind individual in charge of choosing sneaker dyes. What a stroke of luck, for Mikey. Donnie regretted having color vision looking at the things.

“Looklooklooklooklook _look!”_  Mikey whispered frantically, silently darting around the debris of shelves and benches as he ran towards Donnie. He shoved the shoes under Donnie’s nose, grinning like he’d found a week’s worth of water, and not the most hideous shoes known to mankind.

Donnie could see the vibrating edges to Mikey’s body, obvious with his desire to scream and shout like he’d used to when he was happy. Due to circumstances though, no one had raised their voices above conversation level in four odd years. Sometimes, especially during enforced silences, Donnie knew the muteness Mikey had to endure killed him slowly.

Just one more thing Donnie missed about the old world. If someone had asked him back then if he’d ever miss Mikey’s yelling, he would have laughed.

Younger him was an idiot.

“They’re… orange,” Donnie provided as a response, fighting a smile as Mikey beamed like that was a compliment. Donnie rolled his eyes. “You’ll draw everyone’s attention for ten miles with those things.”

“I know, aren’t they  _great?”_  Mikey whispered happily. “I’m gonna put ‘em on right away!” He then shucked off his worn sneakers, kicking them to the side as he hopped in place to shove the new ones onto his feet. Donnie steadied Mikey’s shoulder as he did, giving a softly  _murring_  Kitty a pet as she showed her annoyance about the hopping.

This was the happiest Mikey had been in… days? Maybe weeks.

It’d been a while since they lost their family, and that weighed on them both. Seeing Mikey genuinely happy about  _anything,_  and not just pushing false enthusiasm, was almost enough to bring up Donnie’s spirits.

Donnie ended up finding his own pair of shoes, good strong runners that would last for a few weeks at least, if not months. He chose a plainly colored set, and ignored Mikey’s attempts to push a bright purple pair into his hands. Donnie would indulge Mikey, but not that much.

After that, Donnie had them clear out of the store. They hadn’t seen anyone coming in, but scavenging spots were often roosts for survivors. Sometimes neutral ones just looking for easy supply, sometimes violent ones aiming to control said supply by force. Donnie wanted to avoid the latter as much as possible.

It figured that the moment the rounded a corner in their effort to leave, they came face to face with two other survivors. Donnie’s bo staff came up on automatic, and Mikey’s nunchucks spun with soft whistles. The other two survivors reacted similarly, raising a  _gun_  at them.

Donnie darted his eyes over the individuals in front of them, assessing if this would turn into a fight he and Mikey couldn’t win. The gun might not be loaded, and it was insane to fire off such a loud weapon. The blast would attract everything within earshot, and sometimes that could be a single zombie, sometimes it could be a couple  _hundred._

Sweat beaded on Donnie’s forehead, and he swallowed. “…we don’t want any trouble,” Donnie said quietly. “We just came here for some shoes. We were just leaving.”

The man holding the gun sneered, making the scarred pit of his eye twist horridly. It was covered mostly by a ragged black cloth, but not enough to hide the scars. It eerily reminded Donnie of Raph, who’d lost his right eye a year into the world’s end.

“Give us your food,” He spat, a smoker’s gravel making his voice hitch weirdly. He put himself in front of his companion, who was hunching on herself as much as she could. Sibling, perhaps; the two of them sharing similarly colored eyes and dirty blonde hair. The man held his long hunting rifle at eye level, sneering with all his worth. “And water.  _And_ medical shit. All of it, on the ground,  _now.”_

Kitty hissed, growling from Mikey’s backpack. Donnie darted a quick glance at her, and saw her eyes were narrowed and her ears laid flat. Mikey made soft shushing sounds, eyes glancing towards the person she was hissing at.

It wasn’t the gun she was scared of; it was the woman hiding behind it.

Donnie took a closer examination of her, and found all the right signs. Clammy skin, greying sclera, and weak breathing. She coughed right then, and it was a phlegmy, choked sound.

An old and nearly forgotten part of Donnie felt a twinge of sympathy. She was dying. She was dying and she likely only had hours before the virus stopped her heart. The man who was probably her brother was just doing what so many others had done- taking stupid risks in hope to find something,  _anything,_  that would help the person they were about to lose.

“She’s dying,” Mikey said suddenly, and everyone except him flinched when the gun was turned on him. Mikey stared down the barrel, fearlessly. It made Donnie’s heartrate stutter, and he tensed his body to tackle Mikey to the ground.

The man snarled, and gestured with the gun again. “Shut up! Just give us your supplies, and I won’t shoot you!”

“She’s dying, and you’re scared,” Mikey said again, which wasn’t helping diffuse anything and god fucking dammnit what a time for Donnie’s brother to finally  _lose it._  Kitty hissed balefully at the gun and the woman both, and the sound only made the tension worse.

Mikey stepped forwards, and continued staring at the man and the gun both. “I know how that feels,” Mikey said, quiet and sympathetic. The gun wielder’s hands started shaking. “I know how much it hurts, and I know how bad it sucks that you can’t do anything to stop it.”

“Shut up, shut up shut up  _shut up!”_  The man hissed. “Just give us your fucking supplies! Shut  _UP!”_

“Your gun isn’t loaded,” Mikey said, like he knew that for a fact. “You’re just scared and trying to make things better for her before she’s gone.” His eyes hardened for a moment. “I’m sorry she’s dying, but we need our food and water more that she does. You can’t kill us for someone who’s already mostly dead.”

“Hob,” The woman said in a croaking voice, putting a hand on Hob’s shoulder. “You know he’s right.”

Hob made a horrible sound, low in his throat. One that made the back of Donnie’s neck prickle. “You just need some  _rest,_  Sally,” He said, and it sounded like he was trying to convince himself, not her. “You just need food and water, and you’ll be  _fine._ ”

“No, I won’t,” She said softly, hoarsely. She pushed Hob’s gun arm downwards, a tired and weak motion. For a moment, Donnie saw a bandage on the extended arm, and he knew from the stained gauze it was the source of her infection. She turned a pallid, exhausted smile on Donnie and Mikey. “Your friend is right,” She said, just above a whisper. “It’s not loaded. We just keep it to scare people off-” Her eyes watered, as a wrenching cough broke out of her throat. In a horrible, literal sense, it sounded like death.

“…go,” She rasped, when the fit subsided. “We won’t trouble you anymore.”

Hob’s broad shoulders slumped, and his gun finally pointed downwards completely. He looked like the life had gone out of him; as tired as Donnie felt, and wearing the same look he found in every reflection he saw.

“I’m sorry,” Donnie said, even though the words were worth about as much as ash. “I’m… I’m really sorry, honestly.”

“Fuck off,” Hob said, not looking at any of them. Kitty hissed again, in time with Sally’s coughing. Hob eyed the cat with his lone, bloodshot eye; wary and knowing. He sneered, but it had lost the bravado it’d had earlier. “You got about ten seconds to get out of my sight, before I gut you both.”

Donnie saw the hunting knife strapped to Hob’s worn jeans, and nodded. There wasn’t really anything else they could do. “We’re going. Good luck.”

Hob laughed a wretched, tired laugh. Donnie wished he weren’t so familiar with the sound. Too many people sounded like that these days, including himself.

All Donnie could do was nod again, and turn to take Mikey out of these miserable people’s lives. And be glad. Glad that it wasn’t him holding a gun, bargaining for supplies that would do nothing to stop the evitable.

Mikey didn’t budge though, staying right where he was even as Donnie tugged on his shoulder. Donnie frowned. “Mike, come on. Let’s go.”

“Hold on,” Mikey said, brushing the hand off. He took another step towards Hob and Sally, and Kitty hissed and clawed at the air. Mikey remained unbothered, though. “Hey, one piece of advice,” He said, even and quiet. Hob finally glanced up, staring at Mikey.

“Don’t leave her alive.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Donnie couldn’t quite breathe.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Mikey said, speaking only to Hob. “Don’t- don’t just watch her go, or- or leave her afterwards. It… it’s something I wish I hadn’t done. With my dad.” He smiled, briefly, and the expression seemed broken. “He didn’t deserve that, and I… I’m not even sure what happened to him, after that. It hurts more when you don’t know.”

“…get out,” Hob whispered, shoulders hunching and fury returning. Then, louder _, “Get_   _out of my sight!”_

His voice rang through the air, and a distant part of Donnie recoiled at the volume; they’d attract everything in the mall right to their location. Maybe Hob just didn’t care about that anymore.

Dizzy and fighting a rise of grief and confusion, Donnie finally tugged Mikey away from Hob and Sally. Mikey went willingly, but he kept staring at the two survivors until they ducked around the corner. Donnie wasn’t sure what Mikey was seeing.

Probably the same thing Donnie had.

Donnie kept pulling Mikey, wordless and intent only on getting them out of the increasingly claustrophobic space. He kept going until they were back outside, thankfully avoiding any infected that could be prowling the area. The sun wasn’t as warm feeling as before, and Donnie couldn’t tell if it was the fear sweat on his skin that chilled him, or the sudden revelation Mikey had made.

They stood there, like idiots, in the open of the parking lot. Just trying to breathe and lost in their own thoughts. It took a good few gulps of air to steady his heartrate, but Donnie managed to calm his screaming nerves back to his general baseline of unease. That left Mikey, breathing unevenly and too still to be alright.

Mikey had never talked about the night they left their dad. At all. Leo did, Raph did, once or twice Donnie had as well- but not Mikey. Like it was something he couldn’t bring himself to say or think.

Donnie tried to find something their father, or Leo, would say in this situation. How to comfort Mikey in the grief he’d been bottling for years. Nothing came to mind; just ghosts and faded memories.

Donnie felt useless, and so, so tired.

“You never told me that,” He said, nearly whispering the words.

Mikey shrugged, looking at nothing in particular in any direction other than Donnie. “It didn’t matter enough,” Mikey said, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “It didn’t matter, okay? We can’t- we can’t go back and fix it. So I didn’t bring it up.”

Donnie put out a hand, and gripped Mikey’s shoulder. Donnie felt lost, and old, and so unequipped to deal with this. This clear hurt that Mikey had been keeping all to himself for years. One that cut too deep for Donnie to even see the depth of.

“You should’ve anyways,” Donnie said gently, trying to keep his own turmoil from spiraling out of control. So many months, and he’d never even guessed.

Mikey shrugged again, and it barely covered the growing cracks in his posture. He looked too old and too young at the same time, and it broke Donnie’s heart.

“I wish I had,” Mikey said, hands tightening on his nunchuck handles. He didn’t need to specify what he wished he’d done, and it made Donnie’s heart give a thrum of horror. Mikey’s teeth were bared, and he seemed to be breaking, right in front of Donnie’s eyes. “We just  _left him_  there, and… god, I can’t stop thinking about it sometimes. He’s all alone there and we  _left him_. He didn’t- he didn’t even get to  _die,_  Donnie. It’s not fair.” A soft sniffle, and then, “…I miss dad.”

Kitty meowed a soft distressed sound, and bumped her head on the back of Mikey’s neck. Mikey barely seemed to notice the touch.

“I’m sorry,” Donnie whispered, saying something he’d repeated too many times. “I miss him, too.”

They’d been fifteen when they lost their father. Skinny and young, and barely able to comprehend what was happening. No person, no  _child,_  should ever think that they should have done a mercy cull for their parent. And yet, here Mikey was. Thinking just that.

Donnie felt sick, exhausted, and guilty for never noticing even a hint of that.

Mikey sniffled one more time, and finally glanced up at Donnie. He wasn’t crying- Donnie didn’t think he’d seen Mikey cry even once, the last four years- but there were fractures all through his expression. Cracks made from too much pressure and not enough support. Donnie had tried, he’d tried with every fibre of his  _being_  to fill all the roles they needed to keep themselves together- but that hadn’t stopped the dark circles from growing under Mikey’s eyes and his own. Hadn’t stopped them from breaking silently in their own ways.

Donnie drew his last remaining brother close for a hug, minding his bo staff and Kitty. Mikey sagged into the embrace, and for a moment, they just clung to one another. Broken and lonely, sorely missing what family they had left.

 

 

 

Donnie lay on his side, staring into dark space that offered nothing to him. Just more silence in an already too silent world.

It wasn’t silent in his head. His thoughts jarred against one another, louder and sharper than each one previous. He couldn’t stop seeing that night. The night he’d lost what little he’d been able to keep intact through the end of the world.

He was exhausted; today had been emotionally and physically draining in ways that left him nearly empty. After leaving Hob and Sally to their fates, be that what they chose, he and Mikey had gone and found the first infected they could. Broke it’s- _his-_  skull open and gone straight for the brain matter, where the infection had grown strongest, and spread the murky black and red and grey onto themselves. Insurance, on top of what they already had, to keep the two of them hidden.

After that, with Mikey’s confession and Sally’s coughing and Hob’s brokenly furious words ringing in his ears, Donnie led his brother into the heart of the infected hoard. No one could follow them through that, thus making them ironically safe in the least safe zone in the city.

Most survivors steered clear of cities for this reason. In the center of each one there was always a congregation of zombies; thousands of mindless creatures standing still or shuffling in circles. No one except suicidal idiots would risk going near those masses.

Well, suicidal idiots and Donnie’s family.

For a reason Donnie had never had the proper tools to decipher- his beautiful, precious lab back home, abandoned years ago to dust and whatever else- he and his brothers were just… ignored by infected. So long as they were quiet and didn’t bleed, it was like they weren’t even there for the zombies.

They didn’t know if this strange half-invisibility meant they were immune to infection, and none of them had ever risked checking. And they’d never told anyone outside their group, either. Donnie didn’t know what the other survivors would’ve done with them- would the religious ones hail them? The nonbelievers send them into the worst territories? Or would the paranoid and terrified ones crucify them? Any number of those things could have happened. He’d never thought it was worth chancing their lives, no matter what scenario played course if they outed themselves.

Maybe they held a part of a possible cure. Maybe they were a piece of the puzzle to fixing the world. Maybe there was hope even with all the world’s governments seeming dead and most of the population with them.

Maybe Donnie didn’t care much for that anymore. Maybe he just wanted to keep the people he loved alive, and leave the rest to their own ends.

But he’d failed at that anyways, losing sight of Leo and Raph and Karai in the mob, and watching April and Casey-

- _disappear-_

-Donnie would’ve traded himself for his older brothers, for April and Casey and Karai, for all of them-

-he would’ve done anything, if he’d had more than his staff, if he’d been able to fight his way back through the crowd, if his invisibility could’ve been shared with his friends-

_-if any of those things had been possible-_

“Hey.”

Donnie didn’t react to the whisper.

“Hey, hey Donnie.”

He continued to ignore the whispering.

Mikey put a hand on his back, and pushed gently. “I can hear you thinking bad thoughts again.”

“No you can’t,” Donnie mumbled petulantly.

Mikey hummed in a way that said he didn’t believe Donnie one bit. The hand disappeared, and the bed they lay on squeaked and shifted. Mikey’s nunchucks rattled for a moment, and then went silent as he set them down on the comforter neither of them was using. Mikey’s arm slid its way across Donnie’s too thin waist, and stayed there as Mikey curled up against Donnie’s back. Knees meeting the backs of Donnie’s and his wiry body coming to rest in nearly the same shape as Donnie lay.

“You’re supposed to be guarding,” Donnie reminded half-heartedly. They took shifts, a few hours each, throughout the night. Infecteds moved better at nighttime, and they’d boarded themselves into an abandoned apartment to avoid that. While their strange invisibility kept them safe from the crowds they’d trekked through earlier that day- Kitty scared silent as the two of them walked, watching for a moment that their cover was blown- it wasn’t a total guarantee nothing would decide to attack them.

They weren’t immune, far as they knew, and they weren’t completely invisible. No chances were ever taken because of that.

“The doors’re blocked and so’s the windows. We’re good for a few minutes,” Mikey countered quietly. He tightened his hug. “’sides, you need this right now. You’re thinking about that night again, and not sleeping when you should be.”

“I’ll sleep later,” Donnie said, blinking his stinging eyes. They felt dry and achy from how long he’d been awake. But he couldn’t close them. It would only get worse if he did.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you slept, like,  _maybe_  four hours last night. Maybe. And that’s me being hopeful and generous.”

Donnie had slept for approximately three hours and five minutes, if his internal clock was still any good. But he wasn’t going to tell Mikey that.

Mikey pressed his forehead to Donnie’s back, like he had when they were much smaller and still sharing rooms. “Dee… come on. Thinkin’ on it doesn’t change anything. Sometimes you just gotta put it aside.”

Casey’s pale and terrified face swam across Donnie’s vision; accompanied by April’s red streaked, furiously determined one. He saw, for the thousandth time, April’s hand reaching for him through the throngs.

He saw, for the thousandth time, the both of them disappearing under the wave of infected and survivors alike.

“How can I?” Donnie whispered.

Mikey didn’t offer advice, remaining silent.

He just hugged Donnie’s waist tighter, tight enough Donnie’s too sharp ribs felt a little crushed, and exhaled a tired breath into the still air. The sound summarised much of what their feelings had been, the past long, long weeks.

“I don’t know,” Mikey said, after long silence. “But you gotta sleep sometime. We need that brain of yours, Donnie. Won’t be any good if you’re walkin’ around like you’re halfway turned already.”

A poor joke, and one that hid a fear that both of them always had running in the back of their minds.  _How much longer until it happens? How much longer until I lose you, too?_

Donnie raised one of his arms, covered by the long-sleeve shirt he wore under his bloodstained outer clothes. His slid his hand into Mikey’s, and clasped gently. There wasn’t any shaking- Mikey never betrayed fear on the surface anymore, the expression buried with many of his other ones- but Donnie could tell it was still there, hidden under layers of Mikey’s self-protection.

He held onto his brother, taking the moment to remind himself he still had one; he still had one piece of his family to hold onto and keep safe. He hadn’t failed Mikey yet, and didn’t plan to.

Donnie took comfort in the steady breathing against his shirt, and whispered, “Go back to guarding, I promise I’ll sleep some. Wake me for my turn in a few hours, okay?”

“Okay,” Mikey whispered back.

“And Mikey?”

“Yeah, Donnie?”

“I love you.”

“…I know. I love you, too.”

 

 

 

The next day brought a rare rainstorm.

It wasn’t much, but it was wonderful regardless. Just heavy enough that puddles could form in the streets, and enough it drove the infected to stillness. For whatever reason, rain made the infected become statues, staring up at the sky with open mouths and wide, sightless eyes.

Donnie and Mikey took the chance as it was, and made their way back out of the heart of the city. Their sneakers got damp, bits of mud clinging to the soles as they walked. Donnie’s shaggy hair and Mikey’s shaggier curls became puffed up by the humidity, something they hadn’t experienced in months. Everything smelt like cement and dirt and plants, the flora growing from the destroyed streets bright green amongst all the grey.

Even in the worst of things, Donnie supposed there could still sometimes be something beautiful.

The rain wasn’t safe for them to drink- laden with silt and soot picked up from across the country- but it felt marvelous on their palms and faces. Kitty wasn’t much of a fan, grumpily burrowing deeper into Mikey’s backpack as he let out a rare, carefree laugh in the sunshower.

It brought a smile to Donnie’s lips, and he let out a few chuckles of his own. His nightmare ridden dreams washed away the longer the light storm kept up, and even though he knew it would take hours to dry their outer clothes, he felt happy for the first time in weeks.

And maybe the storm and his mood were a sign, because what they found towards the limits of the city brought Donnie’s heart to his throat and a burning hope close behind.

Even as the rain trickled on from the sky, the bright colors, standing out against everything else, screamed loud and clear from the road. Harsh reds accompanied by stark whites, outlining one another to form the symbol of the Hamato clan in the center of an intersection.

This was a calling card they’d adopted, an insurance they’d find one another should they ever be separated. A skill that Raph and Casey had taught them all with salvaged paint cans and spray canisters, a skill of tagging that few in the ruined world used often anymore.

If they had no clue where the others were, the general plan was to head back towards their first homes; far across the country from where they’d finally settled with the encampment, and leaving markers all along the way. They’d never actually used the system, but it had been a precaution well served, and now-

Donnie was running before he knew it, hearing Mikey’s wetly scuffing shoes follow him.

His knees barely felt the impact as he knelt, eyes skimming for the words he prayed he’d find. The paint looked new- maybe only days old- and Donnie scanned the wider sections of the symbol for the information he needed.

There, in stark black on the red, it read-

_15 – 06 – 2016_

_Heading southwest. Remain close five days. Noon until then._

The date of when this had been painted, of when the words had been written with careful precision; the direction their family was heading, how long they’d be in the area, and when they would check this site each day.

Donnie’s numb fingers couldn’t get out his cellphone fast enough. They slickly fumbled with the slim device, extricating it from his inner jacket pockets and turning on the screen. He was forever thankful that he’d had inspiration to make their phones all solar, on a lifesaving whim, long before the world had ended.

There was no use for it in terms of calling or texting, but it held within it something invaluable. The ability to count the days and months.

It was June sixteenth.

It was three in the afternoon.

They’d missed him,  _but he’d been here just hours ago._

Donnie raised his eyes, bleary with hope and disbelief. Mikey met him with a similar expression, water sluicing down his cheeks as they stared at one another.

Then, he smiled.

And laughed.

And pulled Donnie into a bone crushing hug.

Donnie smiled, and laughed, and hugged back just as tightly.

Raph was alive. He was here.

They weren’t alone.

 

 

 

They holed up nearby, out of the rain and waiting for the hours to tick down. There was only a lone old woman that they had to deal with, standing in what had probably been her tidy little herb garden. She likely hadn’t moved since the day the bite on her neck took her; vines and other things crawling their way up her ashen legs and nightgown.

She hadn’t even blinked at them passing through to her home; busy staring up at the sky as rain wetted her black and white hair. Donnie had exchanged a look with Mikey, and they’d both agreed silently to leave her to her peace. Whoever this woman had been, she was one of the types to be content where they turned. They’d leave her to stand in her garden undisturbed.

Plus, she served as a ward against other squatters. Because she’d make noise as she was killed, giving Donnie and Mikey time to prepare, or she’d keep other survivors out of the home entirely. Either was good.

Their invisibility meant that so long as they kept silent, they could rest easy once the doors and windows were barred. A chair here, a desk there, and they moved to the top level to dry off and anxiously wait for tomorrow.

The clouds remained all day, rain pattering down on and off as it progressed. They wiled away the time they had best they could, napping and eating as they felt the need to, or playing with the few frivolous possessions they had.

Donnie turned his scratched up rubix cube in his hands as he ate, shoveling a bite of canned beans from downstairs into his mouth each time he completed a row. The kitchen had had bottles of water and unbroken cans; it was another good thing on top of other good things.

A part of Donnie was waiting for the other shoe to drop; for something to go catastrophically wrong in a way that would finally break him. It felt too good to be true, their missing older brother finding them on their mutual ways back to their old home.

Donnie wanted to believe. He desperately wanted to believe things might turn out alright.

His aged and cynical side said they couldn’t possibly, but he prayed silently regardless.

He completed his cube for the millionth time since he’d picked it up, three cities ago, and finished his afternoon snack. Mikey’s quiet breathing on the bed behind his back filled the air, and Donnie leaned his head back against the mattress.

Maybe things really would work out. Maybe things weren’t as hopeless as he’d thought.

Maybe there was still good in life.

 

 

 

He just couldn’t shake his doubt though, that the two people he was worrying most for, the two people he’d failed the worst…

…could possibly be okay.

 

 

 

April’s scream above all the others, echoed by Casey’s bellows as they fought their way towards Donnie. They’d been caught unaware, midst a celebration that had left them all complacent and stupid-

-no one had seen the men and women sabotaging to fences, the walls, not until a cry had gone up and preaching of enlightenment and second life had begun-

-no one had known anything until the walls came down and they were overrun.

Donnie’s bo whistled as he hit again and again the infected and survivors alike as he stormed his way through. He had to reach them, he’d already lost sight of Leo, of Raph, of Karai- he couldn’t lose them too, he couldn’t, not after everything they’d been through, everything they’d triumphed over to survive this long,  _together-_

April extended her hand, desperately reaching across the throngs that still separated them all. Donnie moved towards it, his own hands clenching around his weapon as he charged forwards without care to be silent or invisible, he just had to reach them _no matter the personal cost-_

A hand grabbed his jacket.

He wasted time prying the dead fingers away.

He watched- too slow too late too  _useless_ - as the wave of zombies overtook April’s small form, and took Casey’s tall one with her.

Donnie’s scream had come out on its own, anguished and hoarse as he still tried to get to them, ignoring the bodies around him and aiming only to find at least their corpses, at least he could give them death save them from a doomed existence of half-life and mindlessness-

-maybe he could join them, be free of everything that left him hollow and tired every single day that passed-

-please, he couldn’t lose them, too _, he couldn’t live alone-_

Another hand grabbed his jacket. Donnie barely stopped himself from turning to cave in the person’s skull.

Mikey’s bright eyed and scared witless gaze met his, and Donnie stopped short.

“We have to go,” Mikey said, even though Donnie couldn’t fully understand what that meant. Mikey tugged his sleeve again, pulling him away from the worst of the mauling. “Now, Donnie! We have to go _NOW!”_

Donnie’s head swam, and he tried again to turn back, to keep going to find the people he’d just lost just failed. “But-”

“We can’t- we _can’t-_ _there’s no time!_ Donnie, we have to go NOW!”

The words finally got through his haze, and Donnie let Mikey pull him away. He couldn’t afford to look back at what they left behind, could only keep his eyes forward and run.

They were ignored, by survivors fighting to continue being that, by zombies tearing through those unlucky enough to not have the strength or tools to fight, and escaped out of the compound.

Mikey’s hand found Donnie’s somewhere in their escape, and held on until they were miles and miles away.

They ran for two days straight. They left their family behind. They were alone and they had nothing _, nothing-_

-over and over, Leo’s black haired head disappearing into the crowds with Raph’s, Karai’s buzz cut following soon after, April’s flaming red and Casey’s coal black being swallowed by death walking-

-Donnie lost them all he failed them all he’d built weapons made plans and for what they were all useless all pointless-

-when they needed him most-

_-he lost them all-_

Mikey shook him awake, and Donnie sobbed as quietly as he could.

 

 

 

They waited until it was eleven, and then headed out.

Donnie counted the seconds, the minutes, and the hour down until it became noon. They were hidden just out of sight in a gutted building missing most of its walls; watching cautiously for sign of trap or otherwise.

The rain had dried over the course of the morning. There were barely any puddles left. Just partly cloudy skies and a lingering scent of wet ground. The sun had shown itself just enough to warm Donnie's brown skin, but he'd barely felt the rays.

Mikey remained perfectly still beside Donnie, hands holding his nunchucks loosely. Donnie’s staff was leaned on his shoulder, hands circling the length and tapping his fingers. Kitty was curled up in her spot, head peeking out to observe their surroundings on occasion. She’d caught a mouse- a very large mouse Donnie suspected to have actually been a rat- just the night prior, and was content to stay in place while she digested it.

Donnie reached out a scratched her soft ears, minding the tear in one of them and making her purr. Kitty was the only one of them anywhere near relaxed.

Then, a nearly inaudible rumble started in the distance.

Donnie exchanged a tentatively hopeful glance with Mikey, who returned it. They looked back out of their shared window, towards the horizon.

A vehicle turned out of an alleyway, three blocks from the intersection. The moving bulk of metal and machinery was odd enough in the primordial world, that it in itself was something to be wondered at. But the design of it, the additions carefully welded on and painted with care, the reinforced front windows and spearing grill across its fender…

That-

That was the Hellraiser, a bastarized solar powered truck Donnie had been commissioned by the encampment to design and build, with the help of his family. He’d wanted to find it during the mobbing, but had lost his way when he lost his brothers and cousin in the stampeding crowd.

Mikey was vibrating with energy, eager to burst out and dash towards the vehicle. Donnie felt similarly-  _could it really be?-_  but he put a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder. There was still chance that this was a trick, played by someone who’d known them in the encampment.

Too many people these days would do so. Use inside knowledge to lure someone into a trap and do any number of things to them. Steal from them, beat them, rape them- the list went on and on.

Donnie held himself and Mikey fast, waiting for true confirmation.

The driver’s door opened. Leo dropped out onto the cracked road.

All the air left Donnie’s lungs.

The passenger door opened a moment after, and Raph dropped out as well.

Mikey was already gone and running, and Donnie wasn’t far behind.

The second their feet hit the pavement outside the building, their brothers’ eyes found theirs. Leo’s went wide, and Raph’s lone one stared at them just as. They abandoned the still open doors of the Hellraiser and ran the same breakneck pace Donnie and Mikey had.

Donnie’s feet barely touched the ground, feeling none of the cracks that tried to trip him and skimming over the message their brothers had left them. He dropped his bo staff with a clatter on the cement, and threw his arms around Leo the second they impacted against each other.

Donnie gasped, and buried his face in his eldest brother’s shoulder. His gasp quickly broke into a sob, and he heard a sound of the same nature shudder through Leo.

“Oh my god- _oh my god,_ Donnie, Donnie- fuck, oh god,” Leo said hoarsely, his damaged vocal cords grinding as he did. “You’re- you’re _alive._   _You’re both-”_

 _“I know,”_  Donnie choked out. “I know- you are- you’re both alive, too-”

Leo hugged him tighter, and Donnie cried at the action he thought he’d never receive again.

They moved together, opening their embrace and drawing their other two brothers into the fold. Raph’s lone eye was wet, but his smile was as wide as Mikey’s. The two of them, with their scarred socket and scarred cheek respectively, grinned triumphant grins at Donnie and Leo both.

Donnie’s heart swelled and he felt every part of it come back to life. He’d thought he’d lost almost everything, but here they were. His brothers weren’t gone. They’d been looking for them too, leaving markers and trails as they headed the same way Donnie and Mikey were. They were still alive.

They were all still alive.

“Think we can get in on this?” Someone’s voice asked.

Donnie’s head whipped up fast enough it hurt, and he stared at where the voice had come from.

Casey smiled, gap toothed and sporting a shiny new scar across his nose. April caught up with him just as he did, breathlessly smiling at all of them. Karai emerged from the truck just behind them, followed by a dark haired woman Donnie didn’t know.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

They were all here. They’d all survived. He hadn’t lost any of them.

Donnie reached for them-

-and this time their hands connected.

 

 

 

“So where do we go now?” Mikey asked, nestled between Karai and Raph in the back. Utterly content with Kitty in his lap, who was demanding extra attention for the jostling she’d endured earlier.

Casey and April had the middle seats, along with the mysterious woman who called herself Shinigami. The three of them turned their heads towards the front with the same unspoken question.

Donnie looked away from the review mirror, and glanced at his brother in the driver’s seat. Leo shrugged, and started the engine with a twist of the ignition.

“Dunno,” Leo said, gravelly voice filled with easy affection as he addressed Mikey. “Wherever we want?”

Donnie thought about that for a moment. They hadn’t gone anywhere in years, and the journey to find each other didn’t count as a pleasure trip in the least.

He smiled.

“I think wherever we want sounds good to me,” He said, at ease with everything for the first time in forever. “How about as far as the coast? I could use a seaside trip, personally speaking.”

Leo grinned, and a consensus of agreement came from the back seats.

“The coast it is,” Leo agreed, shifting the truck into gear and starting down the road.

Donnie leaned back in his chair, finally free of having to travel by bike and foot. He had every single person important to him in one place, and he could already feel his fears dissipating the longer he remained still.

Something flicked the back of his skull, right on the thick scars from his near death experience with scaffolding two years ago. He turned, and couldn’t even manage a glare at Casey’s cheery wave.

“You’re sittin’ back here, next piss stop,” Casey told him, leaving no room for argument.

April laughed, and leaned a little more against the idiot she was sharing seats with. “What he said, but without the word ‘piss’.”

“Please, I need to switch seats with you,” Shinigami said, giving Donnie an exasperated look. “I can’t take their canoodling much longer without wanting to throw him out the window.”

“I think we all want to do that, pretty much all the time,” Raph snarked, eliciting cackles from Karai and Mikey both.

Casey turned in his seat, nearly elbowing April as he did. She shoved him away with an eye roll as Casey gave Raph a mock pained expression. “I’m hurt, Raph. I thought we were bros, thought you loved me.”

Raph smirked in a way that made his eye scars crinkle horribly, like he probably meant them to. “Jones, I love you like a canker sore and you know it.”

“Tch. Dickbag.”

“Dogturd.”

“Dinglefuck.”

“Douchecanoe.”

“D-”

“We have been driving for  _maybe_  two minutes,” Leo cut in. He turned a stern glare on everyone in the review mirror. “And I swear to god, do not make me turn this murder truck around.”

Raph and Casey both stared at Leo in the mirror. So did everyone else in the truck. They all grinned at the same time.

“Catshit-”

“-dumbass-”

“-bitchtits-”

“-motherfucker-”

“-whoreringer-”

“-asslicker-”

Leo let out an annoyed groan, cursing them all.

Donnie couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t care. He had his family back, and he felt alive.

**Author's Note:**

> there might've been some hints of ship but please, i couldn't help myself/didn't even notice i'd done it until i was editing.
> 
> hope you all enjoyed your heap of b-team feels, i had fun drawing out all their emotions and writing about a world without human society.
> 
> don't forget to gimme a comment on your way out, i wanna know what y'all think of things.


End file.
